


Lay of Beruthiel, The

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: 3rd Age - The Kings, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-28 17:17:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3862943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The lay of the evil, loveless wife of Falastur, twelfth king of Gondor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lay of Beruthiel, The

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

Beruthiel Queen, loveless, forlorn,  
Swore to love, and was forsworn.  
All things fair and bright she loathed,  
Bright banners, maidens in fair garments clothed.  
Smooth silks, fair towers, e'en flowers gay,  
White and red and gold and grey.  
All these she hated; nought would she wear  
Save black and silver, and in her hair  
A hairpin shaped as a cat, wrought of silver.  
A witch men called her,  
And they may have been right.  
Ten cats she had, nine black, one white,  
Prowling, creeping, bringing to light  
All that men wished to keep from sight.  
Among them the white cat was as a lord,  
Spying on them, tormenting when bored.  
Men feared these cats and cursed them when seen,  
For everywhere the cats had been  
And saw, Beruthiel knew  
And of all secrets save a few  
She learned, and used for harm.  
Cold of heart, of malice warm  
She was. But seldom do tales tell  
Of the evils that befell  
Those she curst.  
Lomerel, Anorien's lady was the first,  
Fair sun-land maiden,  
Died on a dark night hidden  
From the eyes of men.  
Ithil itself was veiled in Ilmen,  
Dark birds screeched their ill-omened song  
Amid the swirling throng  
Of bats, flying on the cold north wind  
And Lomerel, the maiden kind,  
Lay unmoving on the ground  
Till day's first rays around  
The high towers as a crown shone.  
Then she was found, and horns were blown.  
But no drop of her blood was spilt,  
No deadly poison, no blow of hilt.  
She lay as a flower, cut off in bloom,  
No blemish, no wound, no sign of doom.  
She was the first, and others came,  
Deaths linked with Beruthiel's name.  
But Beruthiel, the dark lady cold,  
Was still malicious, still bold,  
And more hurts she caused in  
Years to come, e'en to her own kin,  
To those who displeased her or her cats.  
Sickness came on them; they died like rats,  
Or sudden malady strike them blind,  
Or ill-fated blow leave them hind.  
Her victims to the king appealed  
And slowly her crimes were revealed.  
Then doom was passed,  
And Beruthiel was set on a ship,  
And in dark of night was slip'd  
Onto the ocean with her cats.  
One on the figure-head, one on the mast,  
As under a sickle moon by Umbar they passed.  
They were seen no more,  
But old wives' lore  
Told that Beruthiel's stony heart  
Was far too heavy for the ship to cart,  
And lost was she,  
In the grey-rolling sea.


End file.
